


Soon, All We Will Have

by ViaLethe



Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Dancing, F/M, Sparring, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-13
Updated: 2012-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-14 03:30:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViaLethe/pseuds/ViaLethe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is not the only one who can twist things to suit himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soon, All We Will Have

**Author's Note:**

> For the lj comment_fic community, off the prompt _Avengers movieverse, Loki/any, "DANCE for your god!"_

At first she laughs, thinking he surely cannot be serious; of the two, he has always been the far superior dancer, for one, and for another, she is not accustomed to putting on such a display naked in her bedchamber.

But Loki merely leans back in his chair and says it again, low and quiet. “Dance for me.”

Perhaps it's the look in his eyes – steady but dark and intense, the sort of look that sends the blood rushing through her veins as it does prior to battle – that makes her eyes light on her spear, gives her the impulse to take hold of it and go through the most familiar of patterns.

She does not forget to watch him as she twists and turns, slowing the forms of battle into more graceful motion, for Sif knows well the importance of never losing sight of an opponent, of controlling every movement in order to manipulate events to her best advantage. So she sees his jaw tighten as she spins her weapon in arcs above her head, sees the reflected light of the blade flash across his eyes, feral and dangerous, sees the way his muscles tense, ready to take any opportunity she gives.

So when she turns her back, it is deliberate; and when she ducks in a smooth, sudden motion to the floor and sweeps his feet from beneath him, that too is deliberate, though her laughter at the petulant look on his face as she pins him is quite spontaneous.

“Did my dance not please you, my lord?” she asks, from her superior position astride him.

“On the contrary,” he says, using his hands not to attempt escape, but rather to urge her into position, his fingers digging into the muscles of her thighs. “It was a dance worthy of a god.”

This time, he will dance _with_ her.


End file.
